At the City Aquarium

Noah’s Ark by Edward Hicks, 1846

Before the watery wall I stand,
a pane of glass between me and
flashy schools of myriad fish like sins parading
when a hammerhead impales my gaze.

I remember that one, the one
I should go to the gallows for,
before it pivots from the glass, as if
content to bide its time till the apocalypse.

Say, for an instant the earth quakes, the
glass cracks and another deluge follows,
the shark like avenging justice would seek
me out, for all my sins, for each mortal sin,

each like piranhas eating at my soul and
one long shark bite to crown the whole,
an entrée in the overtaking flood.
Would I call to that fool Noah to let me in

to his ark of gopherwood which we laughed
to see him build, four by fours, and two by twos,
the men and women kneeling to pray, now before
a Lamb slain, innocent blood, the promised Son?

The light dims around me, and for a moment,
the watery screen is empty, a gray shield,
a blank page to write my own fate sans God,
sans judgment, sans arks and crosses.

Maybe the fish were being fed on the other
side, a reprieve for me, “for my sins,” I laugh
and turn, when the hammerhead shoots out
of the murky depths and steals my bubbly grin away.


Continue reading “At the City Aquarium”

Last Year’s Snow

When last year’s snow is slow to go
The chill hanging on, no mellow glow
Arrives, freeing wintry branches and briers
Beneath the ice like frozen desires.

So may our hearts harden, slow to thaw
When too long we don’t withdraw
Our gaze from yesterday’s wrong
Mistrusting forgiveness for which we long.

Then what loss we bear to gain instead
A bitter disbelief in what had once been shed
Where warm blood flowed from pierced side
Christ’s sacrifice unheeded and despised.

Look up, dear soul, see who’s risen above
Healing in his wings to bear your judgment in love
He enthroned in power, has power to melt
Your shame-hardened heart, set free from guilt.